The Aftermath (based on Entraced Cat's Quinn Bobs Her Hair)
by metameric1
Summary: Daria finds herself implementing a radical change in her appearance. After all, she's lost her head of hair, so now what?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This fic is based on **Entranced Cat's** Quinn Bobs her Hair. The scenario is hers, and she graciously allowed me to mess with it. Oh yeah, all characters are the property of MTV/Viacomm or whomever has acquired the intellectual property rights. No money or anything else of value has been exchanged; this is strictly fanfiction, done for fun. I claim nothing..._

* * *

_**The aftermath**_

_Vanity. _

For someone who deliberately avoided trying to look good, the loss of her hair still disturbed her. A different person looked back at her from the mirror. The oval face, without the fall of distinctive auburn hair to distract, gazed back at her. Deep brown eyes, delicately shaped nose, ears that laid back along the sides of the head. Almost elfin, with that curious little curve along the top.

The light above the bathroom mirror, while somewhat softened by the largish milk glass diffuser, traced a high forehead, the slightest of hollows defining the cheekbones, and a well formed chin. A small mouth, with oddly full, flush lips.

The skin was light, and the transition to the scalp was smooth. There was a bare trace of fine, reddish brown hair, perhaps at most an eight of an inch long.

_Hello, stranger. You bother me. You make me uncomfortable. Why?_

_ Does this mean I'm a hypocrite? _

_ I deliberately try not to attract, but I know that I'm not ugly. I simply do not want to be seen. If I were ugly- am I now ugly? Does it change who I am? I hate to admit that I feel bothered by this. I am now self-conscious; I cannot hide in plain sight now._

_ Who are we anyway? If I were to stand in a room without light, I do not cease to exist. If I close my eyes, what I remember is what I looked like before this…change._

_So. Appearance, to a certain extent, does define who we are. And I admit I don't like being so disoriented. Guess the me I know went on hiatus somewhere._

A pair of black jeans, which seemed to have shrunk from the last time she had worn it, replaced the usual skirt. At least, it seemed snug around her hips- and her butt. It was a practical choice- it was warmer than her usual skirt, given the amount of heat she was losing directly from her scalp. And that damn jacket. Without her skirt, she kind of looked like a guy, and things were bad enough as it was. A sweater, then.

Of course, the boots didn't help things, but they were staying. She was in no mood to play nice if anyone gave her grief.

She looked in the mirror. Without her hair, the glasses seemed even larger than usual-she hadn't realized until now how out of scale with her face they were.

After a moment's hesitation she reached for the contact lens case. These were the new pair she had been given to replace the first pair that had irritated the hell out of her eyes. She hadn't even tried them out yet.

Checking the expiration date on the lens solutions, she washed her hands and put the lenses in. They seemed much more comfortable than the old pair. She stared at the strange girl looking back at her in the mirror. _Hello,_ _Sinead O'Connor._ Not bad. You could still see that she was a woman; even without hair she was feminine. She sighed, and turned, seeing her sister standing in the doorway.

Quinn said nothing, stepping into the bathroom and looking closely at her sister. Daria couldn't meet her eyes, and stood there, leaning with her back to the sink, blushing at having been caught staring into a mirror.

After a long moment, Quinn hooked her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans and spoke quietly. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Sis."

Daria studied the bathroom floor. No long hairs today. "You don't need to apologize, Quinn. It was a stupid prank."

She gave Daria a little smile. "You know, you look good."

Daria searched the words for mockery or venom and found none. She said nothing, but looked up to see her sister regarding her critically.

"Without your glasses, you can really see your eyes. And your cheekbones. I'd use a bit of makeup to emphasize the shapes, but I guess you don't really need to."

"So you're saying I don't look horrible?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I'm saying you look _good_, Daria. Very edgy, dark, and brooding. Very _you. _C'mon, I made you breakfast."

"What?"

"Well, okay, I made you some toast."

Puzzled, Daria followed her sister downstairs.

Oddly, both her parents were still home. Well, it wasn't unusual for Dad to still be here, but Mom was clearly hanging around. They both looked at their daughters, smiling.

"What?" Daria sighed. "Mom, aren't you going to be late?"

"I just wanted to tell you how proud we are of both of you." She handed Daria a cup of coffee. "You look good, Sweetie."

Jake turned the paper to face them. "I'm gonna buy a dozen copies. My girls are front page news," he grinned happily.

Daria grabbed the paper, scanning the article and staring at the photo of her in the chair, being shorn like a sheep. It had been shot through the window with a telephoto lens. A much smaller photo was inset, showing her just as the haircutting had started, her full head of hair quite nicely shown under the shop lighting. She really did have beautiful hair, she thought glumly. Another photo ran alongside, showing Quinn front and center, the fashion club (and a somewhat peeved Sandi Griffen) behind her, showing off their new short hairstyles.

"Hell."

* * *

Daria sighed as she walked on home, not wanting to hang out at Jane's where Trent might see her.

Jane had shaken her head vigorously. "Dammit, Daria, you don't have to be self-conscious around him." She rolled her eyes. "I mean, any more than usual. He still thinks you're cool, hair or not."

"I think I've had enough exposure for one day, thank you very much." She gave Jane a weak smile. "Thanks anyway. I'll see you tomorrow."

_Why did Ms. Li have to make such a big deal about it? A freaking assembly, for God's sake? "Honor and Glory…" sheesh!_

An hour later, she had finished up the last of her homework. She looked at the clock- dinner wouldn't be for another four hours, at least, and she had bailed on the usual after school slice of pizza.

Quinn was hanging out with her friends somewhere. Hell.

She dialed Jane's number, but the call went unanswered. Grabbing her keys off the hook in the kitchen, she walked out to her little car and decided to head on over to Dega Street to check out the used bookstore and coffee shop. She considered the knit cap she had stuffed into a pocket, but then threw it aside on the seat. _May as well get used to this._ She eased into a parking space a few doors down the street and found herself ordering a lemon bar and an espresso. While she waited for her order, the phone rang. The girl behind the counter picked it up, exchanged a few pleasantries with the caller, and then looked around, finally making eye contact with her.

"You Daria?" Not waiting for her reply, she noticed the obvious lack of hair. "Oh yeah, it's you." She opened the register and pulled out the exact amount of the order, and reached over to pull out the dollar Daria had put into the tip jar. "Your money's no good here. Axl's payin'. She gave Daria her order, and slid the money back to her. "You're a pretty cool chick," she said with a smile.

"Thanks," she blushed. Taking her tray over to a table, she glanced across the street, finally noticing Axl's shop almost directly across from where she had parked her car. And Trent's blue Plymouth was parked nearby. How had she missed that?

"Hey, Daria."

Trent settled into the chair across from her, setting a cup of coffee down.

"Sorry. Guess I should have made a little more noise first." He smiled, tilting his head as he studied her.

_ Stop staring, would you? _Strangely enough, she wasn't blushing. The vague discomfort she had been feeling since the shearing seemed to have inoculated her somehow.

His lips curved up in a soft smile. "Janey's right. You look good. C'mon, Daria, you don't have to avoid me. You're the coolest woman I know."

Daria couldn't help it. She gave him a half-smile. "You mean the coolest high-"

"The coolest _woman_ I know."

"Um-" she pushed half a lemon bar across the table. _Was he flirting with her?_ "Don't worry, I don't have a cold. Or mono."

Trent smiled. "Would I gross you out if I picked it up with my fingers?" He didn't reach for it, even though she shook her head. "I know you're kinda self-conscious and all, but I've missed seeing you around. I've been wanting to tell you what an awesome lady you are, but I'm sure you already know that." He turned to look out the window. "Axl thinks you hang the moon."

He smiled at her, something like admiration in his eyes. Silently, he reached for her fork and divided the bit of pastry in half. Balancing it on the tines of the fork, he held it up for her. "I'll split this with you."

After a moment's hesitation, Daria leaned forward and opened her mouth. Carefully, Trent held the fork and watched as her lips closed around the sweet morsel. He slowly pulled the fork back, and used it to pick up the little bit still on the plate.

She watched his lips as he licked the sugar powder from the fork. Setting the utensil down, he gave her a half smile much like her own. "I agree with Axl. I also want you to-"

He stopped, noticing Jane standing on the sidewalk outside, eyebrows raised.

Daria smiled. "What timing." She motioned Jane to join them inside.

Trent shot Jane a look and held up his index finger. Jane stopped in her tracks. He turned to Daria. "Look, before Janey says something stupid to ruin the moment, I was wondering if I could ask you to stop avoiding me." He paused, waiting to see how she would respond.

She didn't.

"You know, it's _always_ cool to see you."

Daria considered this for a moment. She was surprised that her blush didn't finally make an unwelcome appearance.

"Well, okay." She settled back into her chair.

After a long moment, he reached across the table and put his hand on hers.

She looked down, wondering why he had done that.

"I washed it, Daria."

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and she smiled.

"Cool."

Surprise registered on both faces. They had each spoken the same word at the same time.

_One word, many possible meanings,_ thought Daria. Looking into her friend's familiar eyes, she sensed that something was different between them. She had supposed that without her thick lenses between them, he might be seeing her differently. She hadn't expected it to work the other way as well.

Trent nodded to Jane, who bolted to the door, nearly knocking over a customer leaving.

* * *

"How long does this stuff have to stay on?" Daria turned the plastic Ziploc bag in her hand, but the handwritten label wasn't very informative. She leaned her head slightly over to her right, so Jane would have an easier time of it applying the curious, fluid design to her left temple.

"Until it dries. Then we wash it off. You don't feel anything weird, do you?" Jane spoke carefully as she applied the henna to Daria's scalp. "This stuff is supposed to be really pure, without any chemicals or additives."

"Just tickles a little where you're working. Actually, it feels kinda nice."

"Cool design, Janey." Daria turned her eyes to the doorway, where Trent had appeared. "Are you gonna do your hands too, Daria?" He gave her a little half-smile as he handed her a cup of coffee. She returned the smile in kind.

Jane noticed, and a frown flickered across her face before she could stop it. She glanced at her brother as he sat her coffee down on the corner of her cluttered desk. She mumbled her thanks.

She waited until he had retreated back to the kitchen.

"How about it, Amiga? A little thing around a wrist, then around the back of the hand?"

"Knock yourself out," Daria smirked. Jane was having fun. Truth be told, so was she. "How long does this stuff last, anyway?"

"Depends. Varies from person to person. I'd guess on you it'll last more than a week, since you're pretty fair. Maybe two, until it disappears."

In another hour, they were done. "Don't lay down or move your hand too much, Amiga. Let the paste dry. I'm gonna go clean this stuff off."

She took the tray of utensils to the laundry sink and set to work.

"So you're pissed at me now?"

Jane didn't turn around; Trent closed the door quietly behind him.

She turned and fixed her brother with a raised eyebrow. "Don't mess with her, you asshole."

"Janey, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Something's going on between you two."

"I've always thought that she was the coolest. I dunno, after what she did, she's even cooler."

"You're just turned on by bald chicks, I guess."

"Huh?" Trent crossed his arms, leaning against the door. "No. It's just that she taught me something again. Reminded me how amazing she can be. She's special. I always just admired from a distance."

Jane silently rinsed out the rags and wrung them out. She began working the bristles of the brushes with her fingers, the running water going brown and muddy in the sink. "So you've always liked her. You're close friends. So why escalate things now? Am I not understanding something?"

"She was just so young. And there was that Tom thing; I kinda figured that was it. Somebody finally figured out what an amazing woman she is." He caught himself and noticed that Janey didn't seem hurt by that comment. "Then this whole thing with the hair happens. She told me about how it all came down, and how you two pulled that dumb prank."

Jane sighed. "Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Too bad it had to blow up in her face."

"She took her lumps, though. This whole thing's made her realize stuff about herself. It's like she's decided to take control of her life and just stop waiting for things to happen.'

"So that's her. What about you? Why make a move on her now? Just because now she's _legal? _What makes you think that you can hold up your end of trying to make a relationship work with her?"

Trent leaned back against the doorframe. "Daria is fighting her own demons. She might be uncomfortable, but she's doing it. She made me realize that some things _can_ change, and that some things _have _to change."

Jane dropped the brushes into a can to dry. She turned to her brother and stabbed her finger into his chest, eyes blazing. "You better believe that things will have to change for you to be good enough for her."

Trent stood his ground, but said nothing. He looked back at her.

"Dammit," Jane sighed. "Look, I didn't- I mean, I guess I'm a little scared. What if it doesn't work out? Is she gonna avoid you and stay away from us? I _do _want you guys to work out, I really do. It's just that you and Daria are so different."

* * *

"That is so _cool!"_ Quinn jumped off the sofa to get a closer look. "Did you do this, Jane?" She grabbed her sister by the shoulders, turning her to get a better look. The intricate brown dyework traced a geometric filigree across Daria's scalp, and almost seemed to shimmer in the light. Quinn took her sister's arm, admiring the complementary artwork twining itself around her wrist and snaking across the back of her index finger. "Can you do one on my wrist for me?" Quinn begged. "I'll pay you."

"Twenty-five." Daria pulled her hand back.

"Ten. A small one, just across the back of the hand."

"Twenty-four."

"Come on, work with me here. Jane, talk to me."

"You'd pay me for this?

"Of course! This is soooo cool!"

"I dunno. I mean, the stuff is kinda expensive, but I got it as a present for Daria. I'll do it for ten but if anyone asks, it's twenty bucks. Back of the hand. More if it's bigger or runs up the forearm. Nothing like Daria's job, that took all afternoon. Maybe Axl can get me some more of this premium henna powder."

Quinn smiled. "Jane, you could make a lot of money doing this."

Jane grinned. "I wouldn't object. You know it fades, right?"

"It should last for at least a week, I'd say," Quinn said thoughtfully. "You know, I better tell mom and dad about this before they see it. Daddy would like freak if he thought it was a tattoo or something like that."

Daria nodded. "Good point. I wouldn't want to give him another heart attack."

Quinn fell silent, tilting her head as she studied her sister. "This is kind of out of character for you, sis."

"Let's just call it a shift in perspective," Daria murmured. "I think this whole thing with the hair taught me something about myself."

Quinn grinned. "Leave it to you to overthink this. Listen, Jane, do you have enough to do some hands? I'll call my friends over. Bet you make some money tonight."

Daria walked Jane back to the front door. "I'm inviting you and Trent to dinner here tonight, since you're gonna be busy here."

"Don't you have to ask your folks first?"

"I'm gonna start cooking now. They won't mind. Don't forget to ask Trent."

"Why don't you? He's home, and awake."

"Fine. I'll give him a call."

Jane smirked, pointing at her best friend's middle. "Are you gonna say anything about that?"

"I'm 18. Nobody has a say in any holes I choose to get poked in my belly button this time. Anyway, Axl says that this titanium ring shouldn't itch like the last time."

"Trent will love it."

"Out. See you later." She closed the door behind Jane. Turning, she nearly ran into Quinn who was holding the phone out to her.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Quinn Bobs her Hair**_

_**A Small Comfort**_

_"Jeez, now she's a total egghead!"_

The burst of laughter followed Daria down the hall. Some of the people nearby glanced at her, some smirking, but most shared a dark look as they ever so slightly tightened ranks around the smaller teen.

"Asshole," muttered someone in the back, turning to flip off whomever it was that was trying to score a cheap laugh at Daria's expense.

Around the corner, on the other side of the floor, Quinn scowled as she heard. She spun on her heels, stalking back to where she had heard the laughter, Stacy hurrying to catch up.

Quinn stepped up to Skylar Feldman, standing on her toes to get as close as possible to look him square in the eye. Even from where Stacy stood, the rage in Quinn's voice was palpable.

"Leave my sister alone, you JERK!"

Skylar, taken aback for a moment, soon regained his composure. Sneering at the fuming redhead, he slouched against the wall, not noticing his posse slinking ever so slightly away. "Geez, Quinn, who lit the fuse-"

He paused, sensing a malevolent presence close by.

"Don't finish that sentence, Feldman," came a slow, calculated growl from his right side.

Mack MacKenzie stood rigidly, face unreadable, hands clenched at his sides.

"Daria is my _friend_, and she is one of the _few _people around this school that is worth getting in trouble for pounding your stupid ass into the ground." Behind Mack, the three Js stood, their displeasure clear about someone daring to insult Quinn. Jamie, though, also cast a glance in the direction that Daria had gone.

Skylar raised his hands in a mollifying motion. "Hey, just kidding, okay?" Stepping away, he looked around. His little entourage had dispersed, not wanting to get locked in the doghouse with him. He turned sheepishly back to the angry redhead. "Sorry, Quinn," he muttered lamely.

Watching him beat a hasty retreat, Quinn sighed. "Thanks, Mack. Daria's good at not letting stuff like that get under her skin but I'm sure she's pretty damn tired of it. I don't think she really cares about what idiots like Skylar think. She's just kind of thinking this whole thing through. You know how she is."

Mack smiled. _Not only did Quinn no longer deny that Daria was her sister, she did what she could to cover her back. Last year, he didn't much like the self-centered, shallow girl that she had been. Things had changed, and for the better._ "Sure, I guess. You better get to class before the bell." He waved as Quinn hurried down the hallway.

* * *

Daria stowed the two backpacks in the trunk of her car. The weather was getting too cold to walk to school with no hair, and she still hadn't gotten around to finding a cap that wasn't as dorky as the one she had. _Why do I give a shit about the way that stupid cap looks? Trent doesn't care._

Daria raised an eyebrow as the battered blue Plymouth pulled up alongside. "Hey. Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"Late lunch. Had to fill in since the new kid at the store never showed up. You girls up for Pizza King? I'll buy and drive."

Jane dove for the back seat, slamming the door behind her. Daria smirked, getting into the front passenger seat without complaint. She exchanged a half-smile with Trent.

"Axl came into the music store around noon. Wants you to stop by tomorrow after school, got somebody that wants to meet you." He glanced over, noticing Daria sinking slightly into the seat.

"Not a reporter, I hope," grumbled Daria. She ran a hand over her head, the hair just under a half inch long. "This is old news."

Trent just smiled and reached over to take her hand. Wordlessly she twined her fingers with his, smiling softly. _There had definitely been a silver lining, after all._

They pulled into the restaurant parking lot. Shutting the engine down, he turned to her and spoke quietly. "He really wants you to come. It's kind of important to him."

After the pizza, Trent dropped the girls off back at Daria's car in the school parking lot. He waved as he drove back to the music store; he had a long evening with quite a few students ahead.

"Big Bro's getting old," Jane smirked. "Growing up a little. About time, too."

"I'm not complaining," murmured Daria. She unlocked the doors of her car. Jane watched the gages as the engine started, making sure that there was enough gas for them to get to that big art store in Oakdale. She pulled out a twenty and handed it to Daria.

"You realize that he hasn't bummed gas money from me for at least two months?"

"He sold out, Jane, and somebody was buying," Daria said quietly, handing back Jane's money. "You bought gas last time. Well, maybe Trent just decided to sublet a little time to tide things over until he can make his dream work."

They pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the interstate. Daria merged smoothly into the heavier afternoon traffic and settled into an easy pace, keeping to the right lane. They only had a few exits to go.

Jane held her tongue for a commendably long time. Finally, she gave up.

"So how are you two doing?"

Daria didn't answer immediately. She kept her eyes on the cars ahead. "Why ask me? You live with the guy, don't you?"

"Well, yeah, but I only get his side of things. He thinks everything is just dandy."

"What makes you think it's not?"

"Jeez, Daria, who can tell with you?" Jane sighed. "I mean, I never see you guys making out or anything, even at our house. And you don't hug or kiss much when we're out and about."

"I'm not going to hang onto him in public. And we're doing fine. I save the affection for when we have some privacy."

Jane smirked. "There is that. Thanks for the reminder, I may need some new earplugs." She leaned on the door, looking out the window.

Daria looked over. "It's not just a physical thing. I'm just not that emotionally expressive. You know that." She flicked her signal on, and took the exit off the interstate.

* * *

"Hi," came the quiet voice.

Daria turned to see a young girl of about twelve sitting sideways behind the case of body jewelry. She was small, and very pale, with dark circles under her dark eyes. Her hair framed her face, a familiar, rich shade of auburn. Her right arm rested on the glass top, where she had been writing in a small notebook.

"You're Daria." She smiled slowly, the expression pushing away a veil of sadness that wasn't at first noticeable.

She let go of Trent's hand and crossed over to where the girl sat. As she stepped up to the case, the wheelchair that she was sitting in became visible. "You're Axl's niece, right?"

"Yes, my name is Carys."

"Welsh for _Love." _

The young girl grinned. "Uncle Axl said that you were the smartest person he's ever met."

Daria blushed. "I just like names. I like to write, and so I spend a lot of time looking up the meanings of names."

"And your name is Persian. There's a Roman Catholic Saint named Daria." The girl smiled warmly at that. "I like to write too, but I have to tell you that I looked up the meaning of your name. It suits you."

Daria said nothing, embarrassed by the praise.

"Thank you for doing what you did. This," Carys said quietly, touching her hair carefully, "is yours. I lost mine when they started in on the chemotherapy. I'm not as strong as you are, and your gift lets me pretend that I'm pretty and normal. Like you. It lets me look in a mirror and not cry, and I can convince myself that I'm not scared."

* * *

Neither Daria or Trent said anything as he walked her back to her car. She did, however, reach out and take his hand even though they were out in public.

Arriving at her car, she turned to him and hugged him tight.


End file.
